


Joffrey Doesn't Know

by TheMagnificentSciFiScout



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, I Don't Even Know, Modern Era, Modern Westeros, Music, One Shot, Past Joffrey Baratheon/Sansa Stark, Rock and Roll, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Wish Fulfillment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 17:49:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18036023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMagnificentSciFiScout/pseuds/TheMagnificentSciFiScout
Summary: But he's about to find out.In the most public and rock n roll way possible.





	Joffrey Doesn't Know

**Author's Note:**

> Basically a writing/retelling of this scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Vyj1C8ogtE 
> 
> I take credit for nothing except my batshit ideas and my urge to see Sansa be a bad bitch and Joffrey get humiliated. Season 8 is coming to wreck me, LET ME HAVE THIS

“Got a little special thing I’d like to do tonight- gonna play a little song for you.”

The microphone crackled but his voice was clear, the lights throwing down directly onto his sweat, his scars, and his infernal _smirk_.

“About the nastiest… _freakiest_ little sex puppet I know.” His hand cradled the mic but his eyes scanned the crowd, looking for something- for someone. There was a hush, a silence, and he knew he had all of them, dozens and dozens of college kids, party animals, well-bred aristocrats, and aging rockers in the palm of his hand.

“ _Sansa._ ”

Half the crowd whooped- the other half, the one in the know, whispered furiously.

“Isn’t she-“

“Aren’t they-“

“Baratheon-“

“ _engaged_ -“

Then there was a path carved through them, shoulders bumped and drinks sent flying as Sansa pushed her way to the front. Slapping away the hands that reached to stop her, she bounced onto the stage and stopped, inches from the mic. He leaned in close too, the cool metal brushing his lips.

“This one’s for you, baby.”

There it was again, that smirk.

“Happy Anniversary.”

He leaned down and her arms flew around his neck, both of them rocking on their feet with the force of their kiss. In the crowd, Joffrey’s face suctioned inward as the crowd began jumping. To either side of him Meryn and Boros fidgeted with discomfort. They were at a Tyrell party, and outnumbered at least ten to one. If the boss wanted to bring Sansa back in line, he’d have to wait- whilst she got off with the lead singer of the band, who just so happened to be the ex-head of security at Baratheon Enterprises.

On stage, Sandor tore himself away from Sansa and pulled the microphone close, tipping his head back to begin the song-

_Joffrey doesn’t know that Sansa and me_

_Do it in my van every Sunday_  
_She tells him she's in church but_  
_She doesn't go_  
_Still she's on her knees and_  
_Joffrey doesn't know_

Sansa leant against him as he sang, leading his hand around her body to rest on her hips. Running her tongue over her lips she flicked her hips as the drum beat kicked in, and the crowd exploded upward for the chorus.

 _Oh Joffrey doesn't know oh_  
_So don't tell Joffrey_  
_Joffrey doesn't know_  
_Joffrey doesn't know_  
_(So don't tell Joffrey!)_

Joffrey’s drink began to spill as revellers started to jump, the rum and coke splashing down his silk shirt. Irritated, he shoved the cup into Trant’s chest.

“Get that bitch _down_ ”

“But boss-“

“Don’t you see what she’s doing? That whore is meant to be _mine_ but she’s up there grinding on the fucking Hound!”

Sandor spun to face Sansa, who stood only a few inches shorter than his six and a half feet. It was funny how no one ever quite noticed how tall Sansa was, how long her legs truly were, until she stood proud. Drawn up to her full height, she shook her hair out and looked the Hound right in the eye. As he sang she flipped her jacket off her shoulders, her white tank top cut low and close to her body. Sandor swayed closer but his gaze didn’t drop from her eyes.

 _Sansa says she's out shoppin'_  
_But she's under me_  
_And I'm not stoppin'_

_'cause Joffrey doesn't know…_

The chorus kicked in again, and Sansa whirled her jacket over her head like a lasso, letting everybody catch flashes of the golden Baratheon stag and Lannister lion printed on the back. It was unmistakably expensive like the rest of Joffrey’s clothes line, but she flung it violently into the crowd where it was quickly trampled underfoot. Joffrey’s eye twitched.

“Trant, if you don’t get that bitch off that stage right now, I shall tell Mother about your pathetic stash of photos.”

Meryn choked slightly on his own spit as he thought about the cache of Cersei Lannister magazine spreads, mostly from _Business Insider_ or _Vogue_ , that he kept under his mattress for… personal reasons. Then he looked around at the sea of jumping and crashing bodies.

“Boss, do you think Cersei will be more pissed that I keep her pictures, or that you broke up a Tyrell birthday party?”

Joffrey craned his neck up, seeking out the deck that had been roped off for Margaery and her crew. By all rights that’s where he should’ve been stood- Lord knows his grandfather would rather he wed a Tyrell than the Stark bitch- but he was glad he’d decided to mingle when he saw the group of Highgarden sluts bouncing, flinging their hair about in their skimpy finery as the Hound howled on stage.

 _I can't believe he's so trustin'_  
_While I'm right behind you thrustin'_  
_Sansa’s got him on the phone_  
_And she's tryin' not to moan_  
_It's a three way call_  
_And he knows nothin', nothin'_

Nobody could deny that Sandor gave it all as he sang, closing his eyes as he leant back, the mic stand resting between his legs. For those who had known him as head of security, the change was nigh unbelievable. Once seen only in understated dress shirts with a perma-scowl, the light hit Sandor Clegane entirely differently in fitted jeans and tight grey t shirt. Silver rings studded his ears and fingers, a previously covered tattoo creeping onto his neck. His hair was smoother and moved off his face more readily. There was life in his eyes as he sang, as he spread a hand over Sansa’s belly and brought her hips back to his. Her hands crept onto his hips and neck, making a smile spread across his face. The scars, the long hair, the sheer height and size of him- everything that used to terrify stray partygoers had become magnetic.

The chorus hit again and Sansa detached, head starting to bang back and forth as her red hair whipped into a frenzy. The band roared, and Sandor’s eyes roved the crowd, daring each and every one of them to sing with him:

 _Joffrey doesn't know_  
_Joffrey doesn't know_  
_Joffrey doesn't know_  
_Don't tell Joffrey 'cause_  
_Joffrey doesn't know_  
_Joffrey doesn't know oh_

The guitarist with the Blackwater shirt, a green flaming chain stretched shoulder to shoulder, leant in close to the mic to join in with Sandor’s glee. And glee it was, as a broader smile than any had seen on the Hound stretched across burnt skin and white teeth. Sansa was dancing free and the drummer’s arms flew higher, the beat steady but his energy rising. By now, the half of the crowd who hadn’t known who Sansa, Joffrey, and the Hound were had been filled in; and their shock at the insult offered to the Baratheons was rivalled only by their sheer enthusiasm for the drama. It also didn’t hurt that the Tyrells, the party hosts and rising power in King’s Landing, were dancing so hard their deck looked in danger of collapsing.

 _So don't tell Joffrey_  
_We'll put on a show_  
_Everyone'll go_  
_Joffrey doesn't know_  
_Joffrey doesn't know_  
_Joffrey doesn't know oh_

The smiles Sandor and Sansa shared on stage would’ve made the more romantic of the partiers sigh- if they weren’t so busy trying to get a look at Joffrey, who was still stuck in the centre of it all. Meryn and Boros, large as they were, only served as partial protection from the revelry and Joffrey’s face burned red as he caught the laughter of the people around him. Sansa had been his shadow and his intended for nearly two years now- the Hound had been head of security since Joffrey had hit puberty. Everyone knew who they were to him. This was a humiliation he would not soon forget- or forgive. He began to fight his way out of the crowd, people refusing to part for him as quickly as they normally would.

 _The parking lot, why not_  
_It's so cool when you're on top_  
_His front lawn, in the snow_  
_Life is so hard 'cause_  
_Joffrey doesn't know_  
_Joffrey doesn't know_

The Blackwater let his guitar sing as Joffrey tried to beat his way out of the press of people. The band were openly laughing at him now, and Sandor tucked a strand of hair behind Sansa’s ear as he kept singing

_I did her on his birthday…_

“Get me the fuck OUT OF HERE!” Joffrey’s face was screwed up, and he stomped his foot as he screamed at his flanking bodyguards. Meryn and Boros began shoving, making a path by force. On stage, Sansa leaned into the microphone and joined in, shouting the lyrics over Sandor’s rolling voice.

 _Joffrey doesn't know_  
_Joffrey doesn't know_  
_Joffrey doesn't know_  
_Joffrey doesn't know_  
_Don't tell Joffrey_  
_Joffrey doesn't know oh_

Arms slung around each other, they presented a united front over the crashing drum and soaring guitar. The Tyrells came streaming out of the roped off VIP area to join the crowd as Sandor wielded the mic stand like a weapon, reaching toward the crowd with wild eyes and unbridled energy.

 _Joffrey will know_  
_Joffrey doesn't know_  
_Joffrey's gotta know_  
_I'm gonna tell Joffrey_  
_Gonna tell him myself_

His hands wound into Sansa’s hair and she scratched at his shoulders as he kissed her again. The crowd cheered as he dipped her slightly, ducking to grab her waist and hoist her up. Tossing her head, she laughed as he walked her off stage and she raised her arms in a victory salute. Her eyes were dancing as she stared down every person who’d witnessed her humiliations at the hands of Joffrey. The cruel words, sly knocks, mysterious bruises- she’d borne them all and now she held her head up high as they left the stage.

The band kept up the chorus and played out the song, the anthem of _Joffrey doesn’t know_ following Sandor and Sansa as he carried her out of the Tyrell gardens. Though his band had no doubt been hired tonight by Margaery as a prank for the Baratheon brat, he didn’t think even she knew just how far Sansa and himself had planned to go. Everything was in place- her bag had been packed and smuggled out to Sandor’s van, her passport and papers recovered from Cersei’s office, and her family assets transferred back to her name. She was a free woman again and, after this concert, had restored at least some of her reputation. He grinned as he let her down from his shoulder, shifting her to a bridal carry as they passed through endless rows of rosebushes. If he’d known that their wild night of fucking exactly a year ago today would lead to a night like this, he could’ve saved himself a lot of worry. But maybe that was what made this victory all the sweeter- all the pain they’d both been through, all the stress and uncertainty, meant that this passing moment in the darkness at Highgarden was one he’d remember for the rest of his life.

Sansa didn’t speak, but her eyes had that knowing look he’d come to treasure, the shine of steely determination that had kept her sane through the years in King’s Landing. His van was parked at the very edge of the grass verge, and he set her onto her feet to pull open the door. Her hands, sliding under the hem of his shirt, derailed him. She tugged lightly on the hair tracking down into his jeans and he was helpless before her, couldn’t deny the kiss she pressed into his mouth. He loved how tall she stood, how he barely had to lean down to meet her. It was a world away from the bowed and timid girl she’d been when they'd met, just as he was a world away from the dog they’d made him.

Soon enough he was leaning up to meet her lips as he pinned her against the side of the van. Miles of leg was clamped around his waist and all he could see was red- her lips, her hair, her tongue sneaking out to roll over her teeth. They both froze when the unmistakable whine of Joffrey Baratheon’s voice floated through the hedgerows.

“I want them _dead_! I want him _cremated_ and I want her _beheaded_! I want that guitarist strangled with his strings and their equipment shredded. I want-“

“Now, now, nephew- I _want_ , doesn’t _get._ ” Sansa dropped her legs from his waist and they shared a look as they heard Tyrion interrupt Joffrey’s tirade. After everything, they couldn’t afford to get caught now, alone in the dark away from any witnesses. Jumping in the van, the tires squealed as Sansa threw the hunk of metal into gear and they peeled out onto the long winding driveway. She thought she could hear a faint screech as they left, and smiled to think that Joffrey had seen them leaving, only able to watch the van disappear into the night.

She stomped on the accelerator, sending manicured gravel flying as they sped down the landscaped avenue of trees leading through the grounds. Sandor wound down his window and leaned out, hair whipped back as he laughed, yelling into the wind. She laughed with him, surprised anew by how truly animal he acted at times. Then again, there had to be a certain freedom in low expectations- when everyone thought you were a dog, why shouldn’t you get to act like one? He leaned over to her, planting a kiss on her jaw before licking, smirking as she squealed at his saliva. Wiping at her face with the back of her hand, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

“What? Did the song get you off that much?” He laughed again, and shook his head.

“No- the idea that Joffrey is hiding behind a rosebush whilst all the cunts of Kings Landing laugh at him is what gets me off.” She laughed with him as the Highgarden gates appeared, and though she rolled to a stop the gates swung open without a single question asked. Sansa supposed she had Margaery to thank for the speedy getaway. Since telling her the truth about Joffrey, the Tyrell princess had been determined to wave a magic wand and make Sansa’s life better. But in the end it hadn’t been Margaery who’d saved her from the lions den- or even Sandor really, though she was sure she couldn’t have done it without him. Sansa felt sure that she’d in large part saved herself, and hoped that somewhere, somehow, her parents and Robb were smiling down on her.

As they eased onto the highway north, she reached over to take Sandors hand in her own. Tomorrow would bring new trials, but tonight one shining thought lifted her chin and made her beam: Joffrey Baratheon was firmly behind them, and all the world lay ahead.


End file.
